


A Matter of Honor

by ohmyfae



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Also some random dude idk, Gladio being good at every martial weapon!, M/M, Swordfights!, smooches!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-03
Updated: 2017-02-03
Packaged: 2018-09-21 19:03:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9562406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohmyfae/pseuds/ohmyfae
Summary: Gladio duels for Ignis' honor. Noct and Prompto take bets.(A fill for the kinkmeme)





	

Ignis had the situation entirely under control.

Technically, he had the situation under control months ago, when his latest admirer, Lord Hayden, had bent over his fingers in the middle of a council meeting and kissed his knuckles—an act which, according to some members of the upper class, was reserved for the recently betrothed. Since Ignis was neither betrothed nor technically upper class, he’d pulled away with a scowl, and Lord Hayden had smiled up at him with a knowing, familiar gaze.

What followed was best described as an exercise in Ignis’ patience for fools. Lord Hayden was only six years his senior, but treated Ignis like he was a blushing teenager, which was grating at the best of times. Ignis started trying to find excuses to slip away at every opportunity, and it was becoming increasingly harder to do so without appearing to be entirely rude. Luckily, Gladio always seemed to be around. Lord Hayden viewed the oldest Amicitia as a blight on the noble class, and Ignis found he could push Hayden away simply by talking to Gladio for more than half a minute. Still, he could tell that it was only a matter of time before the older man tried to get him alone.

Now, Ignis wondered what the fine would be if he was caught breaking a nobleman’s fingers in the middle of a public soiree. He was pressed up against the far wall of one of the reception rooms, Hayden’s lips brushing dangerously close to his own, the warmth of him oppressive and unwelcome in the crowded space. Ignis searched for Gladio—even Prompto, who’d been dragged here by Noct and could talk anyone to distraction—but all he could see was the mess of Hayden’s light brown hair as the man leaned in to press his lips to Ignis’ own.

“Enough,” Ignis said. “This is hardly apr—“

“Don’t be ridiculous, love.” Hayden slipped his fingers under the lip of Ignis’ dress pants, and Ignis hissed. “I know you’ve wanted this for a while, now.” Ignis tried to push away, but he was already pressed flush against the wall. This was getting out of hand. He gripped Hayden’s shirt with both hands and twisted, wrenching the older man away from him.

“I said, _enough,_ ” he repeated.

“You heard the man.” Both Ignis and Hayden turned to see Gladio, dressed to the nines in his Crownsguard formal gear, striding towards them with all the mercy of an oncoming tidal wave. Lord Hayden stepped back, but in a stunning display of either confidence or a complete lack of self-preservation, kept his fingers hooked under the hem of Ignis’ pants until the last possible moment.

“Iggy,” Gladio said, coming to a halt at the advisor-in-training’s side. “Let me borrow one of your gloves.”

It was an odd request, but Ignis was so rattled that he didn’t think twice. He tugged off his right glove and handed it to Gladio, who smiled at him in thanks before smacking the glove sharply in Lord Hayden’s face.

“Pretty sure that's how you assholes do this,” Gladio said. “Consider this a challenge, you sack of _shit._ You and me, here and now. I win, you don’t even _look_ at Iggy again.”

“And if I win?” Lord Hayden drew himself up to his full height.

“I beat seven types of tar out of you until you leave him alone anyways.”

“Quaint,” Lord Hayden said, with a smug grin. “But no. A formal apology, then, in front of the King. We will fight to first blood. And we’ll use swords. None of those hulking blades you Crownsguard use.”

Ignis could have told Hayden that Gladio knew his way around the nobility’s choice of dueling weapons better than most, but decided not to mention it. He was too caught up staring at Gladio, who had shifted so that he stood between them, his shoulder almost blocking the other man from view.

“Sounds good to me,” he said. “Get the weapons and meet me here, or I’ll track you down myself.”

“What a catch you’ve found,” Hayden said to Ignis. “I can see why you like him so much. Just your type.”

He walked off with his head held high, leaving Ignis and Gladio standing in the midst of a very curious crowd.

“I could have handled that, Gladio,” Ignis said. Gladio turned to him and sighed.

“I know, Iggy. I just.” He looked aside. “I’m not gonna stand here and let it happen.”

“Your job is to protect _Noctis,_ ” Ignis pointed out, with a bemused smile. “Not me.”

“It ain’t protecting if I— Oh, fuck it. At least he’ll be gone after this.”

He walked off into the crowd, where a circle of empty space was already being made in the center of the room. Ignis watched him go, trying to make sense of the past two minutes. Of course, he had every right to be angry with both of them: Hayden for taking advantage, and Gladio for assuming he needed defending. But Gladio knew he could defend himself—He’d seen Ignis at weapons practice often enough. What had possessed him?

Ignis lurched as prince Noctis flung himself bodily onto his right side. The prince’s cheeks were pink with too many flutes of champagne, and he looked far too pleased with the entire situation.

“I can’t believe this, Specs,” he said. “I haven’t seen a duel since I was _five._ I thought Dad outlawed them.”

“He did,” Ignis said, with a frown. “The fine is so heavy that most people don’t bother.”

Noct whistled low. “Gladio must _really_ like _you,_ ” he said. “Good job, Gladio. Get it, Gladio. I’m gonna grab Prom and see if we can get some bets going, cover the penalty.”

He staggered off before Ignis could remind him that gambling was just as illegal, if not more. Ignis made his way to the circle of onlookers, wondering if it was possible for him to sneak out before the duel actually started. This was ridiculous, really. Fighting over his, his _honor,_ like he was a heroine of a play, or someone’s injured lover…

Which he wasn’t. Of course. Still, there was something… almost _nice_ about knowing that Gladio was willing to go this far for him. It didn’t make sense. They were friends, surely, but this degree of loyalty spoke to something that stirred the depths of Ignis’ mind, in that locked-away place beyond duty and responsibility that belonged to pure, selfish longing.

He watched Gladio strip off his overshirt, the muscles of his back rolling with his shoulders.

“Give him a kiss for luck,” Prompto whispered, passing by with a handful of bets.

“Don’t be crass,” Ignis said. He hoped the blush rising up his neck wasn’t too noticeable. By Prompto’s grin, it was. Damn.

Hayden had returned with two long, thin blades that Gladio looked over with professional distaste.

“Ornamental bullshit,” the Shield said, hefting one in a loose grip.

“These are the finest steel,” said Hayden, in his loftiest tone. “From the forge of—“

“Yeah, whatever. Sorry I brought it up.” Gladio twisted his sword in the air, slowly, gauging its balance. “It’ll get the job done. Let’s go.”

He stepped back, and Hayden opened his mouth to announce the formal challenge.

“On one end of the ring!” this voice belonged to Noctis, who draped himself over Ignis’ shoulders so suddenly that Ignis jumped. “We have Whats-his-face, Lord Something!”

“Lord. Hayden.”

“Right! And on the other, we have—“

Prompto’s voice called out from the far end of the crowd. “Gladioooooolus Amicitiaaaaaaa!”

Gladio narrowed his eyes in Prompto’s direction. 

“Two men! Two swords! Fighting for Iggy’s hand in marriage—“

“It’s for Iggy’s _honor,_ dipshit,” interrupted Gladio.

“Same deal. First person to make the other guy bleed _wins._ Go!”

Gladio rolled his eyes, and Lord Hayden assumed an offensive stance. Ignis immediately stiffened—Hayden’s footing was more fitting for a lighter sword, and his grip was too tight, but he seemed remarkably confident. Gladio, meanwhile, held his sword loosely, only slightly lifted, and watched Lord Hayden warily.

Lord Hayden stamped and feinted—Gladio’s sword barely twitched. To an untrained eye, Gladio looked bored, even awkward. Ignis knew him well enough to see that Noct’s Shield was still in the way that a panther was still: His body was the deceptive weight of a blade before the thrust, the coiling build of a wave beneath a yet unmoving sea. 

There. Hayden lunged too soon, and Gladio sidestepped him, letting the older man stumble to regain his footing. There was a ripple of restrained laughter from the crowd, and Gladio’s opponent flushed a furious red. He went into an earnest attack, now, seeking to put Gladio on the defensive. Gladio raised his eyebrows and laid a sharp, almost admonishing tap on Hayden’s blade. Hayden stepped back and winced—He was holding the hilt too tight, and the force of Gladio’s blow had rattled him. Gladio took the opening and laid a shallow cut along the front of the other man’s shirt, ruining the fine silk without breaking the skin below. 

It was clear, now, that Gladio was not simply here to win. He meant to _ruin_ Hayden, to _humiliate_ him. The older man was red-faced and breathing heavily, while Gladio was barely breaking a sweat, and the crowd—so fickle, in these events—had turned on Hayden with all the glee of an audience at a theater. 

“Fight me, damn you,” Lord Hayden said, through a hiss of breath. He struck high, and Gladio lazily deflected the blow. “Don’t show off for _his_ sake. I know _his_ type. All restrained and _respectable_ in company, but in the end, he’s an elevated commoner. They’ll spread their legs for anyone, given enough _time—_ ”

Gladio twisted his wrist, and there was a flash of light as Hayden’s sword clattered to the ground. 

“Pick it up,” Gladio said, in a low, leaden voice. The other man glared up at him and snatched up his sword. His blade swirled in a complex motion that made the onlookers gasp. 

Gladio sighed, stepped to the side, and thrust his blade clean through Hayden’s left shoulder. 

“Blood!” Noct shouted, and drummed his hands on Ignis’ back. “Fight goes to Gladiolus Amicitia, _fucker!_ ”

Ignis knew he should chide Noct for _that_ outburst, but he was too busy watching Gladio slowly lower his bloodstained sword. Lord Hayden stood at the other side, panting for breath and clutching at his bleeding shoulder with shaking fingers. 

“I ain’t satisfied,” Gladio said, and the crowd fell silent. “You insulted Ignis _twice_ now. Let’s go again.”

“Gladio,” Ignis said. “Really, that’s enough.”

“I said nothing that wasn’t true,” Lord Hayden said. Gladio dropped his sword. Before anyone could react, he’d taken three swift steps forward and slammed his fist into Hayden’s nose. The man stumbled to the floor, and Gladio spat on the tile next to his face. 

“Tell me you got that on video,” Noct whispered. 

“Dude, it’s me,” said Prompto, holding up his phone with something like reverence. 

Gladio turned from the sobbing, bleeding wreck of a man on the floor and approached Ignis. The adrenaline from the fight still burned in his eyes, but he was forcing himself to gentle, to look down on his friend with the same soft, _fond_ expression that Ignis never noticed until now. 

“You doin’ okay, Iggy?” he asked. He stopped a foot away from him, and lifted a hand to Ignis’ cheek before pulling back. “I know you don’t like to make a scene.”

Ignis sighed, ran his hands up the sides of Gladio’s neck, and kissed him fiercely. He tasted the sweat on his lips and the heat of his tongue, and when he gripped his dark hair in trembling fingers, Ignis pulled the faintest moan through Gladio’s teeth. 

“Right,” said Gladio, when they broke for air. “That’s… that was nice.”

Ignis grinned, and was rewarded with the bloom of warmth in Gladio’s cheeks.

“It was. And next time,” Ignis said, as he trailed his lips up the side of Gladio’s jaw. “You let me fight him _myself._ ”

**Author's Note:**

> DO Y'ALL KNOW HOW MUCH I LOVE WRITING DUELS
> 
> and swordfights  
> and violence in general


End file.
